In(s)ane @pedantic-semantics - Tumblr Blog

Remember how good things used to be?

I remember fucking up every good thing in my life.

Great job, great car, great life, yeah...

Doesn’t mean shit when you constantly push people away.

I remember striving for apathy and wishing, praying, to never feel a fucking thing ever again. Pretending like I was somehow above it all because “look at me I don’t give a shit,” when deep down lord knows I was losing it.

And here I am now, and I would give anything to feel something. Something other than the same constant self-hatred. The only consistent thing in my life is how much I truly loathe ME.

Therapy

I flip through pages and pages of anecdotes. Old stories and quotes that remind me of who I was. I hear a song and it takes me back to a different time. I visit a place from my past and I relive the small meaningless moments that I thought nothing of at the time. Now they mean everything. I decided to visit a counselor. Great. A step in the right direction they tell me. I almost believed it. That was weeks ago. Now I sit in that musty leather chair, it creaks as I readjust myself. I cross my arms, look her in the eye and ask her, "what do you think?" See a psychiatrist... My life is pretty mundane. Clearly there is something wrong with me. But when I look back at it all, I can't for the life of me pinpoint the dramatic tragedy that left me spiraling into this pit. But here I am, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. To say I'm incapable is an understatement. I've toiled away, struggled for a decade plus. Tried to figure it all out on my own. I hit a point so low I decided I couldn't do it alone anymore. And what I got in return was a woman completely frustrated and tired and on the verge of surrender. See a psychiatrist... Being told that you can't be helped... I don't know if I can get any lower.

The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.

David Foster Wallace

pedantic-semantics

I want to be the morally upright guy. The one with clear, immovable principles.

I’m the scummy, selfish asshole. The one who pretends to care about you, but at the end of the day does what’s convenient for himself.

“I won’t promise to go out of my way to do what’s right.”

I like to do what makes me feel good at the moment and later apologize and play the remorseful “victim-of-my-impulses-and-clouded-judgment.” I’ll fuck you over. I’ll hurt you. And then I’ll act like I want nothing more than to make it up to you. I’ll let you down.

But give me another chance. I promise I’ll change.

Hah

pedantic-semantics

Addendum: once it's clear I'm gonna lose out on what I've been taking for granted, THAT'S when you'll start to see a change. By then it's far too late and for all the wrong reasons.

Draft dump

Realistically I know that I won’t wake up one day and be a different person. But I think there’s a fundamental part of me just waiting for some fantastic, horrible, wondrous, tragic event to change every part of me that makes up my person. Because after 23 short (but miserable and deceptively long) years I know that I can’t do it on my own. And it won’t be my selfishness or cynicism or lack of sympathy that kills me, but my pride. The huge ego that tells me I absolutely cannot and will not ever seek help outside of my own incapable hands.

I can’t maintain a relationship. Hardly with friends. Even less with a lover. Even my family is becoming estranged. I suppose the best I can do gasp for air as the water rises above my head.

Some people thrive on misery. And of course misery loves company.

I wonder why two people choose to barely survive in a loveless, nearly hateful relationship. Kids are a bullshit excuse. What if they don’t have kids? In all likelihood, they’re probably too weak to make the right choice and move on. Change is too scary. They’d rather be stuck in a constant loop of unhappiness. Having a slightly good day completely offset by the several absolute shit days. That’s preferred over being thrown back out into the open arms of whatever chaos single-hood brings. Like a newborn deer trying to find its legs. And it’s a terrifying notion. They’d never go for it.

And by they I mean us.

And by us I mean me.

What am I expecting? I talk a lot about self centeredness and ego. Too much really. I’m obsessed with self analyzation. I pick things apart far too much. It’s good for no one. Certainly not me. Certainly not the person rolling their eyes and letting out an occasional “uh huh.”

I live with a girl who’s always looking in my direction, wondering if I’m looking in hers. It has nothing to do with me and everything to do with her constant need for attention and validation. How is that for spelling it out?

When writing a novel, the author typically leaves much to the imagination, not too ambiguous, and not too obvious. But I’ve always been the type to tell not show, despite my teachers’ best efforts.

andrewmalyshev

Visit Original Link

Именно эту тему я умел играть на фортепиано так же! Просто самая моя любимая была, мог повторить полностью! Но увы, прошло 4 года, и я уже давно не сидел за этим инструментом…руки уже наверное многого не помнят… да что там многого?

karinaxmarie

Visit Original Link

mercedesmarie

Give me that Won’t you give me give me Give me all your loving

Once again things are coming full circle in the worst way possible.

And that kids was how I fucked up the only good thing left in my life.

I'm wrong. I've always been wrong. I'm a user and I care about no one but myself. I'm miserably selfish. I will never be happy. I will look back at all this and squint my face in embarrassment and then remember that it is all STILL true. I haven't changed. I have not changed a single thing about me. I hate liars. And I've been lying to myself for years. Remind me to check in again in 2017.

pickypicnic

switchedurls

Visit Original Link

Come down now, they’ll say But everything looks perfect from far away Come down now, but we’ll stay…

Tomorrow.

I'll get over it tomorrow.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

In(s)ane